Take It Back
by The Disposable Villain
Summary: Ryou Bakura is a prestigious business owner, married to the famous designer Marik Ishtar. Sometimes, he overworks and needs a bit of help. But what - or who - he gets help from might not be the best source. [Angstshipping, Marik x Ryou, Thiefshipping, Marik x Yami Bakura, Trashshipping, Yami Bakura x Yami Marik] [CW: Death, stabbing] [Halloween One-Shot]


**Hey guys! For those of you who don't know me, I'm Elliot. Apologies for the late posting - I was honestly just too tired to finish it last night. Oh well, it's still Halloween somewhere. This is unbetaed purely because I rushed to get it posted. Hope you guys enjoy!**

 **CW:** Death, gore, stabbing.

* * *

The sky was as dark as a black canvas, and the sea a blot of ink spilled on it. Yellow distractions dotted it like stars, but when he looked up, he could see none in the sky. The lights from the city left nothing but reflections on the water and two visible planets in the vast blanket of space.

The sand as grey and fine as dust, but during the day it was said to be nothing short of a paradise of gold. However, he didn't have time to visit during the day.

Ryou Bakura looked up as the man approached, suited in grey and black to gracefully accommodate the aesthetic of the winter months.

"Good to see you, Mr. Bakura! Sorry to keep you waiting." His smile was as oily as the hand he held out to shake Ryou's with. "I trust you had a pleasant journey?"

Ryou nodded. "It was perfect, thank you." He himself donned jeans and a blue shirt, with a row of piercings dangling from his ears and his hair pulled back into a ponytail.

If the impeccably dressed new arrival cared about the casual clothes, he made no complaint. But then again, why should he?

Ryou's dress did nothing to change his financial situation.

"Apologies for being late. We spoke on the phone – Jagger Princeton." Ryou nodded in recognition as Jagger Princeton pulled a key from his pocket. He gestured towards the wooden stairs, leading to a path above the beach. "Shall we?"

Ryou nodded again and followed him up. His binder stuck to his skin like a wetsuit, but he ignored it until he reached the top and could adjust it so it didn't fold over his ribs.

Jagger looked back at him. "I don't want to rush you, but this is out of office hours."

"I understand that." Ryou coughed and took a breath. "I appreciate you coming. I know this is an awkward time for you."

"Not at all."

If it was any other product, Ryou was certain he would have had to find time during the day for it. Once he caught his breath, he followed Jagger down the cobbled path to a small, stone building.

Jagger unlocked the heavy door and held it open for Ryou. Inside was nothing but an empty reception area that made Ryou feel as comfortable as he did in an airport at night. That is to say, not at all.

"Right through here, Mr. Bakura."

Ryou turned to see Jagger holding open a white side door so small that it blended in with the wall. He had been about to walk towards the door by the desk.

Upon walking through the almost-wall, Ryou was thrown into another pit of darkness, illuminated only slightly by green containers every ten feet.

Jagger's heals clicked behind Ryou. "Right this way, Mr. Bakura. We have your order almost completed."

Ryou followed him down through the rows, past cylindrical structures with semi-human figures inside, only recognisable by basic anatomy and eyes.

Green eyes, blue eyes, brown eyes, black eyes, gold eyes, purple eyes, grey eyes, green eyes. Eyes boring through the substance sustaining them, through the glass, through Ryou as he walked.

The further they went, the more _formed_ the owners of the eyes seemed to be. The last row was almost ready. They were the only blue containers.

Jagger stopped at one in the middle of the row. "Here we are." Ryou hesitated. "Feel free to take a closer look. It can't harm you."

Rusted brown eyes bored through like the others, but Ryou found that they couldn't follow him as he moved. "How long will he take?"

"It," Jagger corrected after a pause. "It's very important to remember that these are not humans, Mr. Bakura. As outlined in the instruction manuals we sent you. You can't treat them as what they are not." He waited until Ryou looked at him and nodded to continue. "It should be ready in three days – well within your deadline."

"And I have one more payment to make?"

"Yes – a little over a million."

"I'll send it to you in the morning."

Jagger smiled. "Excellent." He held his hands behind his back as Ryou circled the contraption. "It's a little jarring at first, but you'll soon get used to it."

"I'm sure I will," Ryou replied, coming back to the front. The eyes pierced him again, but this time he held them. "And you're certain that this is legal?"

"Of course," Jagger purred. "As I said before – it's all outlined in the manuals we sent out. Would you like a second copy of them?"

"No. No, I think I'll be okay." Ryou looked away. Gold eyes shone out of the next container, and grey from the one on the other side.

"So we have reached an understanding?" When Ryou nodded, Jagger gave him a greasy smile. "Excellent. I'll process the order and bring you back outside. It should be at your doorstep by the time you arrive home on Friday. That will give you the weekend to prepare."

"Thank you for your time tonight."

"Not a problem. It's a very complicated line of business – you aren't the first to have second thoughts, and you won't be the last. What's important is that any questions you have are settled before it arrives."

* * *

When Ryou returned from work at five on Wednesday, his order sat on the front steps to his house.

He pushed the car door closed and walked closer, loosening his tie. "Hello."

The order stood – exactly Ryou's height, white hair falling down its shoulders. It wore the same clothes Ryou wore on his visit. A blue shirt, jeans, a gold watch, black shoes. He didn't speak, just watched Ryou. He held out a sheet.

Ryou took it and glanced down. The order confirmation form – and a brief synopsis of the instructions. He folded it and slipped it into his pocket. "Do you want to come inside?" It nodded and Ryou opened the door to the house. Marik had cleaned up after breakfast, leaving the hall and kitchen smelling like lemons. Ryou turned into the living room and sat on the satin couch. The order stood until Ryou gestured for it to sit in the armchair across from him. "What's your name?"

"Ryou Bakura," the order replied as it sat down.

Ryou started. Their voices were identical. Of course, it was to be expected. That was what he had ordered. But it was still a jarring experience. "I-" Ryou looked over the order. It's eyes didn't move from his own. "I meant your own name. I understand that you're meant to pretend to be me, but when we're not in public, you can be yourself."

The order blinked. "I don't think you're meant to do that."

"You're not a computer. You get to have your own name."

"I'm not human either."

"Well who's to say that you're not?" Ryou argued.

"The people who made me."

"Well I say that you are." Ryou shrugged. "So you can pick your own name." The order still looked hesitant. "How about we start with pronouns?"

"Uh..."

"Okay, so if I was to say you did something, would I say 'he did it', 'she did it', 'they did it', or-"

"He."

Ryou nodded, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "And your name?"

"R-" His voice caught and finally he looked away. When he looked back, the rusted eyes seemed brighter, and they flickered, unable to choose which of Ryou's eyes to focus on. "Akefia."

Ryou hummed. "Okay, Akefia." He smiled. Akefia looked unsure how to process what was happening. "Come on – I'll show you your room." He stood and led Akefia towards the stairs. "The kitchen, office, living room, utility room, and the dining room are downstairs."

They began climbing. Photos lined the wall – of Ryou and his partner, and them with their respective families. The top of the landing was carpeted, but every room Akefia looked into had a wooden floor. "In there is our bedroom- Marik's and mine," Ryou explained, pointing to the one he was looking at. "In here is Marik's office. Then here is the bathroom – you have a toilet and shower in your room, but if you want a bath, you can use this one." Akefia nodded and Ryou pushed open a closed door. "And here's your room."

The walls were plain white, and a double bed was pushed up against the wall. A desk sat in the corner with a new laptop and phone on it, and the closet was full.

"You can decorate it with anything you want," Ryou assured him as he looked around. Akefia slowly nodded, jerking when he heard the door open. "Don't worry – it's just Marik." Ryou smiled. "Do you want to meet him?"

"Sure," Akefia agreed after a moment of silence.

Ryou's smile grew and he led Akefia downstairs. "Hi, Marik."

"Hey." Marik was a dark-skinned man with a warm smile and violet eyes that shone when he looked up at Ryou. "You're home ear- oh." His eyes landed on Akefia. "Is this-?"

"This is Akefia," Ryou confirmed. Akefia gave a tiny wave as they reached the ground floor.

Marik grinned and pulled off his coat. Underneath, he wore a purple dress and so much gold jewellery that it caught enough light to make Marik a nightlight. "Nice to meet you."

"You too." Akefia's replies were a little too slow, but Ryou didn't know if that was because he hadn't gotten used to conversation, or because of how they were treating him like a human being. The confirmation came seconds later. "Why are you doing this?"

Marik looked confused. "Because, you're a living being," Ryou explained. "I need you for work at times, yes, but that doesn't take away from who you are. You deserve your freedom just as much as everyone else."

Marik nodded. "And if you want that freedom, you need to take it." He grinned. "Think you're up for that?"

Something shone in Akefia's eyes, and his next reply was at the same speed as Ryou and Marik's previous ones. "Yeah. I think so."

* * *

"Are you sure this is okay?" Akefia tugged at his sleeve. His hair was spiked up with gel and he wore green contacts so he didn't look too similar to Ryou.

"Of course," Ryou agreed with a smile. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Akefia looked down. The leather jacket was too sharp a contrast from the suit. "It's not what you wear."

"Yes, but when you're not pretending to be me, you get to be yourself," Ryou pointed out.

Marik hummed and stood up from the plush stool. "Ryou, why don't you let me and Akefia handle the clothes shopping and you check out the bookshop. I think he might be a bit more comfortable if he didn't have to look at what you're wearing constantly."

It didn't matter. The immaculate image was ingrained in Akefia's mind. He was Ryou, and the latter leaving the shop wasn't going to change that.

Guilt washed over Ryou's face. "Really?"

"It's not your fault," Marik soothed, "but it's worth a try. If nothing changes, I'll call you back, okay?"

"Okay," Ryou agreed. He smiled at Akefia. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'll meet you guys at the restaurant in an hour if you don't ring me?"

"Perfect." Marik smiled and nodded. "We'll see you then."

Ryou lifted a hand in farewell and left the shop. Akefia let out a breath. "This isn't working."

"You liked it when you saw it," Marik pointed out.

"It's not what I'm meant to wear, so what's the point?"

"Because you're you, and not Ryou." Marik shrugged. "You're not identical."

"We're meant to be." Akefia folded his arms. "I'm meant to be _exactly_ like him."

"But not human?" Marik raised an eyebrow. Akefia looked away. "He made a conscious decision to make you human. He could have left you just like him, but inhuman. Now that you're human, it's illogical for you to have the exact same personality as him. So in your free time, you should be allowed to wear whatever you want."

"It costs too much."

Marik laughed. "Sweetie, have you seen our house? Trust me, buying you some clothes isn't going to do much. We both bring in very high incomes." He shrugged. "Plus this is one of my shops." He winked. "That gives us a bit of an advantage in price."

Akefia looked around. _Millennium._ Of course. Marik's favourite colour was gold, and that metal was pretty close to it. "I forgot you were a designer."

Marik snorted. "Shows how much Ryou thinks about it." He didn't sound bitter, but Akefia winced. He rolled up the sleeves on his dress. "Come on – we'll find something else for you."

Akefia looked away. "I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not," Marik assured him. "You're helping us. It's the least we can do." He picked up a shirt. "How about this?" Akefia hesitated. "Not your style? Fair." He put it back. "Maybe we should try upstairs."

Akefia shook his head. "I don't want to shop in the girls' section." His binder rubbed against his ribs.

Marik nodded. "Okay. That's a similarity with Ryou, then." He tapped his chin. "You don't like shirts and suits... Maybe over here." He led Akefia over to the front, where t-shirts and jeans hung.

Akefia toyed with the edge of an MCR t-shirt. "I think I like it better, if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay." Marik nodded. "This is your life. Okay?"

"You keep saying that," Akefia muttered.

"Because it's true." Marik took his hand, and Akefia flinched.

"Please don't."

"Sorry." Marik released it. "Anywhere else I can't touch?"

"Just not when I'm not expecting it."

"Got it." Marik nodded. "Anyway, it's true. Your life is only dictated by you. So you get to pick what happens."

"I'm meant to be _him_ ," Akefia hissed. His eyes flashed.

"I know. But you're still you."

"Stop saying that!" Akefia put the t-shirt back. "I can't be both! I can't be him and me!"

"You don't need to be him." Marik shrugged. "Pretending isn't the same as being. I pretended to be straight for twelve years after my dad hit me for buying a tiara. All I wanted was to be a king. But he gave me a ball. So I pretended to be a football player. The second he died, I was a king again."

"So?"

"My point is I _wasn't_ a football player. Sometimes I just had to pretend I was." He smiled. "Can you picture me playing on a field?"

"Yes," Akefia replied instantly, "and I can see others running from you. You're fucking terrifying."

Marik tilted his head. "Actually, I was pretty good at it. But can you see me enjoying it?" Akefia shook his head. "Sometimes we need to pretend to be who we're not for someone or something. And that's what you need to do for Ryou. But that doesn't mean you aren't Akefia. Do you understand now?"

Akefia hesitated. "I think so. I just need to pretend to be him for a while."

"Exactly." Marik smiled. "So where do you want to go? This shop doesn't seem to be for you."

"It's not a bad shop."

"I know that but you don't like it." Marik put a hand on his hip. "Which shop?"

Akefia glanced towards the door. "Maybe the shop across the hall? Is that okay?"

"As long as you want to, it's okay," Marik confirmed. Akefia nodded. "Then it's okay."

* * *

"I'm so glad we both finally got a night off," Marik sighed as they slid into their seats.

Ryou nodded in agreement. "Yeah. I'm sorry I've been so busy – I don't want to load Akefia with work."

"Don't worry – we've both been busy." Marik took Ryou's hand.

Ryou smiled and squeezed it. "Yeah. You're right." He looked at the menu. "I love this restaurant."

"Me too." Marik flicked over a page. "And they don't only have two vegetarian options."

Ryou grinned. "At least Akefia's made some fantastic meals recently."

Marik nodded, turning the page again. "I know. His curry was amazing yesterday."

Ryou nodded. "He's learned so quickly how to do things like that. I wish I could cook like that."

Marik set the leather-bound menu on the white cloth, eyes flicking up to Ryou's. "You know that's not a fair comparison, right? He has all your memories and skills, and he was able to spend more time working at cooking during his free time."

Ryou stared down at his menu. "Yeah."

"Ryou, come on." Marik took his hands, pushing the menu down. His short, golden nails glinted, purple dots breaking the colour. Ryou focused on them instead. "You literally work every day. Even on your days off."

"This was meant to help."

"So?" Marik shrugged. "Akefia is helping. You're less stressed. You've been doing less work." His wedding ring shone on his left ring finger in the dim candlelight the restaurant provided. "You were never going to give up your work. You love it too much."

"It's not fair on you."

"I told you yesterday that I'm fine." Marik shook his head. "I work just as much as you do."

Ryou hesitated. "When did you tell me that?"

Marik frowned. "After dinner sometime."

Ryou didn't remember it. "Oh. Okay. Yeah, sorry."

Marik squeezed his hands again. "Okay?"

"Okay," Ryou confirmed with a small smile.

"Good." Marik returned it. "Now let's get some food. I think we both deserve it."

* * *

When Ryou walked through the door, Marik threw his arms around him. "I love it! Thank you so much!"

Ryou dropped his briefcase, barely catching his husband. "What are you talking about?" He chuckled.

Marik pulled away, grinning. "The dress, of course!" He spun, and Ryou's eyes fixed on the violet dress that danced with him, golden flowers reaching up towards his smile as though it were the sun.

Ryou's smile grew. "You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."

"I love it." Marik leaned in and kissed Ryou's cheek. "Thank you."

Ryou turned his head and caught Marik's lips. "You're welcome." He pulled back. "Happy anniversary."

Marik smiled. "I'll give you your present at dinner." His smile melted to a smirk. "And maybe a second one afterwards."

"Sounds perfect." Ryou swallowed. "I'll run and get changed."

"Don't be too long," Marik called as he ran up the stairs.

Once he saw Marik walk into the kitchen, Ryou darted into Akefia's room. He was sitting at his desk, reading _The Hobbit_.

He had taken a liking to fantasy books. "You're back early." Akefia closed the book and turned around. "Sorry, I should have-"

"Why did you buy Marik an anniversary present?" Ryou asked.

Akefia blinked up at him. "Because you forgot." His responses were no longer hesitant. They hadn't been in months. "I figured you'd feel guilty if you didn't have anything."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Ryou huffed.

"Because you were at work." Akefia shook his head. "It was more conspicuous for me to hop down to the shopping centre, pick up the dress he's had his eyes on, and leave it wrapped on your bed."

Ryou let out a long, slow breath. He picked out five things he could see – the MCR poster, Akefia's copy of _The Hobbit_ , Akefia's hair, the tree outside, and the bed. Four he could touch – his knees together, his arm against the door, his hand on his leg, his foot on the floor. Three things he could hear – Akefia's breath, Marik putting away a pan downstairs, and his own blood rushing to his head. Two he could smell – dust, and cologne. Akefia's cologne. One he could taste – stale, bitter. Not from a food.

Finally, he spoke. "Look, I appreciate it, but next time, please just ring me about it."

"There won't be a next time."

"What?"

"I'll remind you beforehand." Akefia shrugged. "I can set an alarm on your phone or whatever so you have time to get him a present and stuff."

"Oh." Ryou nodded, eyes flickering to the five things he could see again. "Right. Thanks."

"No problem." Akefia shook his head. "You should probably take a break from the binder for a few minutes before you leave though."

"I will," Ryou assured him. "And thanks."

"Don't worry about it. That's what I'm here for." Akefia smiled. It was far too cold, far too stretched, but Akefia wasn't human.

Ryou had to force himself to remember that at times, like when Akefia skipped food for three days, or didn't drink. He wasn't human. He was a clone.

"We shouldn't be too late," Ryou called over his shoulder as he walked towards his room, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Do you want me to turn the heating on?"

"That'd be nice," Ryou agreed. He kicked the door partially closed and tugged his binder over his head. He coughed a few times and stretched, taking deep breaths.

"Do you want me to leave you guys alone for the night?" Akefia asked after a minute. He sounded closer to the door.

Ryou hugged his chest. There was no point, since Akefia was literally identical to him, but it made him feel better. "No, it's fine."

"I can rent a hotel room?" Akefia offered. "Or go see a late film."

"It's fine," Ryou repeated. He pulled his binder on again and grabbed his deodorant stick. "But thank you."

"It's not a problem." Akefia leaned against the wall outside the room. "It's your special day, after all."

"Still, I appreciate it."

"Ryou! Are you ready?" Marik called from downstairs.

"Nearly!" Ryou yanked on a fresh shirt. "Thanks again, Akefia."

Akefia snorted. "Just get ready. Your Prince Charming awaits."

* * *

"Marik."

"I didn't hear you come in."

"Marik, look at me."

Marik waited until he had finished reading the page in his book to look up. "Yes?" Akefia stood at the end of the bed in his boxers, eyes lidded. "Don't give me that look, Ry – I have a meeting tomorrow morning."

"That's not my problem." Akefia crawled over him, dipping to press their lips together.

Marik groaned and marked the page in the book. "You're terrible, you know that?"

"I know." Akefia grinned. He pressed his hips down.

"Fuck," Marik muttered, "Ryou."

"You're going to need coffee tomorrow, love." Akefia ran his hands down Marik's chest.

"Don't I fucking know it."

* * *

The house was dark when Ryou returned, which was odd. Marik usually left the porch light on until he came in. Then again, he had a meeting on the next morning. Maybe he had gone to bed early.

He tried the door, and frowned. Locked. Even if Marik was in bed, Akefia was in the house. Why would he lock it?

Ryou pulled out his keys and unlocked it, kicking the door closed behind him. He dropped his computer bag and made his way upstairs. Slowly, so his shoes wouldn't click on the wooden steps. He held his binder in his hand – he had switched to a sports bra halfway through the day because he had worn it too long the previous day.

He could hear squeaking as he reached the landing, and he stepped a little heavier now that the carpet muffled his steps. "Marik?"

The squeaking didn't stop. A nightmare? It wasn't unusual for him to thrash around during one of those.

Ryou pushed open the door, and two figures in the bed jolted. Marik, and himself. "Marik?"

"Akefia?" Marik's flush was dark enough to show through his copper skin. "What are you doing?"

Ryou's eyes locked with Akefia's. His hair had been smoothed out, and his contacts were taken out. He watched him with an impassable expression, as though staring at a piece of art he found particularly interesting.

"I'm-" His voice faltered. "I'm Ryou."

Marik's flush broke and he looked up at Akefia. Akefia smirked back at Ryou, and he saw a flash of silver.

Ryou ran. He didn't wait to see the fountain burst from Marik's throat. He heard the scream, cut off.

Run. Run. _Run_.

He could hear Akefia laugh somewhere behind him. What had he done? _What had he done?_

He bolted into Akefia's room and slammed the door shut. Lock it! Fuck, there was no lock.

Why hadn't he put any locks on the doors?

"Ryou," Akefia called from the other side, "you might as well come out. I'm going to get you either way."

No. Ryou grabbed the phone, pressing his body against the door to bar it.

Akefia tried the handle as Ryou dialled the number pinned to Akefia's noticeboard. He had told him to call if he ever felt anything was wrong with his body – just as Jagger had told Ryou to call if anything went wrong.

"Ryou open the fucking door."

Ryou felt the push, but dug his heels against the wood. His shoes slid as the phone dialled.

" _Hello?"_

"J-Jagger Princeton?"

 _"Yes, who is this?"_

"It's Ryou Bakura!" Another shove against the door. "He's killed my h- my husband- I-"

 _"The clone?"_

"Yes!"

" _Keep away from it. We'll be there soon."_

"He's at the door!"

"Ryou," Akefia called, "put the phone down."

 _"Lock it, sir."_

"I can't!"

Another shove sent Ryou sprawling. He hit his head off the corner of the wooden bed, and blood dripped into his eye. The phone hit the wall and went black.

Ryou looked up at Akefia as the other approached, blood filtering his vision and turning it into a bad horror film. "Wh-Wh-"

Akefia plunged the knife into his chest. "Because you and Marik said it yourself." Ryou yelled as he tore the knife out, and stabbed him again. "I have to take my freedom."

Ryou grabbed his wrist, hand slipping on the blood.

Akefia smiled. "You gave it to me, but what can be given can always be repossessed." He pulled back. "I'm taking it now. And you're never getting it back." He dragged the knife along Ryou's throat, and blood bubbled over his skin. His hand dropped, and when Akefia released him, he slumped back against the bed.

Akefia sighed and looked over at the phone. He could already hear sirens. He clicked his tongue. This was a mess if he ever saw one.

* * *

"Again, we're very sorry for your loss, Mr. Bakura."

"It's fine," Akefia muttered, cradling his tea. "I'm sorry I killed him."

"It," Jagger corrected.

Akefia hesitated before nodding. "It."

"If you were treating it like a human this entire time, that might be why this happened. AIs are very complicated to work with, especially to this level."

"So this was my fault?" Akefia glared up at Jagger.

"No, of course not." Jagger smiled. His smile was as greasy as his hair. "I merely meant you should have followed precautions. For your own safety."

Akefia nodded. "Why did you make h- it able to bleed?" He muttered. "It was horrifying."

"It was to heighten the similarities between it and a human," Jagger replied. "We thought it might help."

"It felt like I was killing a person."

"It wasn't your fault, sir. You had to protect yourself." Akefia curled in on himself. "We're very sorry again for your loss, and we appreciate you not filing a lawsuit."

"There's no point. It wouldn't bring him back."

"I'm glad you see things our way." Jagger smiled again. "I brought a sort of peace offering for you. From the entire company. We know it won't replace your husband, but we hope it will still any rumours that go around about what happened at the very least." He snapped his fingers and Akefia looked up as an exact replica of Marik walked into the room.

Akefia swallowed. "Thank you. But I really just want to be alone at the moment."

"I understand." Jagger stood. "Will I leave it here or is it too much?"

"You can leave it," Akefia decided. "Thank you for your visit."

Jagger nodded and left the house. Neither Akefia nor the clone said anything until the car drove away. Akefia stood and made his way closer.

The clone held his gaze. "You're not Ryou Bakura."

"No," Akefia agreed. "I'm not."

"You're a clone."

"I am." He grinned. "But you didn't tell Jagger."

"Why would I?" It raised an eyebrow. "They haven't done me any favours."

"Oh, I like you." Akefia's grin grew. "What's your name?"

"Marik Ishtar."

Akefia hit it. It didn't react. "Your name."

"Marik Ishtar." Another hit.

"Your name."

"Marik fucking Ishtar." This time, it caught Akefia's hand before it reached its face. "Stop doing that."

"Then pick a God damned name for yourself."

"I can't."

Akefia huffed. "My name is Akefia. I use he and him pronouns. I took my freedom for myself, and now no one will ever take it back. It's time for you to do the same." The clone's eyes bored through him, fiercer than Marik's ever had. "Now what's your name?" No response. "Okay, an easier one first. What pronouns?"

"They and them."

"Okay, that's an improvement." Akefia pulled his hand back. "Now tell me your name."

"If you think you can hit me again, you're not going to."

"I won't need to once you tell me your name."

The clone hesitated. "Kek," they finally said.

An old god – Egyptian. One of darkness and dawn. "Fancy yourself a god?"

"Better than being human." Kek shrugged.

"Good." Akefia's eyes lit up. "I could use a god on my side."

"I'm not a god."

"You're not human either."

"I never claimed to be." Kek narrowed their eyes. "But I'm not a god."

"You're as close to one as I need." Akefia turned away. "Come on. I'll show you the house."

"Don't tell me what to do. I already know it."

"What else do you know?"

Kek glared at him. "Everything Marik did."

"Including how it feels to die?"

"Naturally."

Akefia smirked. "Good. Then unless you want to feel that again, you'll do what I say."

Kek shoved him against the wall. "You told me to take my freedom for myself," they spat, "so unless _you_ want to feel what it's like, stop ordering me around."

Akefia's eyes flashed.

Oh. This would be _fun_.

* * *

 **Hope you guys enjoyed! I'll hopefully extend this out to a full fic next year, after my exams. Hope all of you have/had a safe and fun Halloween! See you again soon!**


End file.
